Volume 7: Copal

Issue 9: Overwatch

Florian Reyes Honeywell

By Roach

We sat in a semicircle around the locked door. Hannah’s flashlight reflected off its cold, metal surface—casting each of my classmates’ faces in a pale-blue light. I looked between my friends: Amber’s smudged makeup and Camilo’s heavy eyelids emphasized their exhaustion.

Lucy had curled up against the cave wall, her body wracked with the heaving convulsions of near-silent sobs. While the rest of us kept an awkward distance, Jay sat next to her—squeezing her arm in a comforting gesture. Yet, they didn’t say anything—instead staring blankly into the air while Lucy quietly heaved for air.

“I’m hungry,” she finally managed between choking sobs.

The reminder of food sent a surge of newfound energy through everyone but me. My classmates stirred around me, just as Hannah asked, “How much food do we have?”

The question inspired a flurry of activity as my classmates dumped out the contents of their backpacks and turned out their pockets. Although I knew I didn’t have anything on me, I still found myself doing the same—if only to do something.

“I have a twinkie,” Daniel said.

“I have some dinosaur crackers,” Jay said.

“I lost mine in the river,” Camilo grumbled.

“I… I had Jaz carry my food…” Amber begrudgingly admitted. “I hope she’s alright…” She turned to look at the metal door, hiding her face from me. But, even so, I heard her voice thicken when she spoke.

“Gabriel, too,” Camilo said. He glanced at Jay who, for once, seemed too tired to look away.

My mind wandered to Holly and Mrs. Porter—hopefully, Jazmine, Gabriel, and the others had wounds up with them. Hopefully they were in a better spot than us.

No one really said anything else before Hannah drew our attention back to the matter at hand. She nonchalantly tossed a couple of granola bars onto the small pile of snacks we had built between us. “This isn’t enough food for everyone,” she said. “It’s not even a full meal for one person.”

“I’m not hungry,” I muttered, hoping everyone else was too hungry to question why.

“Even if Florian doesn’t eat anything tonight, that still only leaves…” Hannah trailed off, biting her lip and staring off into space like she was doing calculations in her head. She rose to her feet and began pacing the cave, fading in and out of its pitch black shadows. “Out of water, not enough food…” I heard her mutter to herself, like it was a math problem that needed solving.

“We can go back to the river in the morning, fill up our water bottles,” Amber said. If she was still worried about Jazmine, any trace of emotion was gone as she composed herself again. “Then we can try to retrace our steps.”

Hannah dismissed her with a wave of her hand. “Nope, we could get sick. Dysentery, maybe. We need to find clean water; bottled water or something.”

“Well, unless you know where that is—” Amber started, but Hannah cut her off.

“The Expedition Center,” she said. “Remember?”

Even in the dark, I thought I saw Amber roll her eyes. “Yeah, sure. After all, we all know where that is. Right?” She cast her glance around our small group, as if surveying for reactions. But no one did more than shift uncomfortably or stare longingly at the snack pile.

“Maybe it’s on the other hill…” Hannah trailed off, pacing by the metal door. “Or, once we get higher up, we might spot it.” She spoke in a murmur, as if deliberating more with herself than anyone else. She only halted when Amber raised her voice.

“Let’s face it. We’re completely fucking lost. There’s no Expedition Center. There’s no help coming for us. There’s nothing here.” Amber shifted her weight as she rested one hand on her hip. “We need to go back.”

“No,” Hannah said, her voice firm. She stepped out of the shadows, standing rigid before Amber. “There’s nothing to go back to. Our best bet is still the Expedition Center. Without food or water, we’re not gonna last—even if there is a rescue on the way.”

“We’ve been walking into the middle of nowhere for hours,” Amber retorted. “If we go back, figure out where we got lost… We can retrace our steps out of here. Because, right now, we’re only walking farther and farther away.”

“We’re at least going toward something,” Hannah said, taking another step forward—closing what little distance there had been between her and Amber. “There’s no way we’re gonna know where we went wrong. You’d be taking us in circles.”

The two stared daggers at each other, seemingly sizing each other up. While the argument had seemed sudden, I didn’t find myself too surprised by it. We were all exhausted, and tensions had been running high. The long trek clouded my mind, and I felt the physical strain in every limb—even with the bees constantly tending to my body. I couldn’t imagine how taxing it all must be for my classmates, who probably felt it even more than me.

I looked at the others, who watched the argument unfold quietly—their expressions a sort of numb shock. Only Camilo returned my look, his teeth gritted.

“Look,” I said, taking a small step toward Hannah and Amber. Simultaneously, they both shot me a stinging glare—as if their anger was now directed at me rather than each other. I almost shrunk back, but managed to maintain my stance. “We’re all exhausted. I don’t think any of us can keep going,” I said.

“I—” Daniel started, but Camilo shushed him.

Ignoring him, I continued, “Archean is still out there somewhere. There’s going to be a rescue on the way. It’s only a matter of time, but sooner or later, people will come for us.” My own conviction caught me off guard—but, at the same time, I really had to believe that Archean would look for us as soon as he finished fighting whatever was out there. “Maybe this cave is a let-down…” I glanced at the metal door. “But it’s still a roof over our heads,” I continued. “Let’s stay the night, get some sleep, and once everyone’s rested… We can make a decision in the morning.”

Lucy and Jay had already slumped down against the cave wall, while Daniel had a hopeful smile on his face. Camilo nodded slowly.

But, while Amber and Hannah’s faces had softened, neither of them looked particularly happy. Amber held up her nails, inspecting the chipped polish. Then, without saying anything, Hannah strode past me—toward the cave entrance.

“Where… Where are you going?” I stammered.

“Gonna build a campfire.” She didn’t stop as she said it.

“I’ll help!” Daniel volunteered, quickly going after her. I watched the two of them walk off. Even from outside, Daniel’s voice carried through the cave as he started talking about his childhood camping trips. If there was any response from Hannah, I couldn’t hear it.

While Hannah and Daniel started gathering loose branches and rocks by the entrance, the rest of us tried to get comfortable inside the cave. After distributing some of the snacks, we started working on our sleeping arrangements. By piling together the jackets we got from the Pleistocene Paddock, we managed to improvise some bedding. It didn’t look at all comfortable, and I was glad that I wasn’t going to actually sleep on it. But, even so, I would still need to pretend to go to bed at some point.

After a little while, I could hear the crackling of fire. An unease ran through me once the smell of smoke reached my nostrils. Instantly, the scent reminded me of the smoke pitchers my parents used to calm their bees.

Then, I thought back to the fire they used to exterminate the foulbrood infection. How persistent that smell was—even now, the slightest hint of smoke enough to bring me back to that day.

Hannah re-entered the cave. “I’ll keep watch tonight,” she announced.

“No,” I said—a little too quickly. “I can do it.” Since I didn’t need to sleep, it would be better if I kept watch while everyone else got as much rest as possible. But I couldn’t exactly tell them that.

Hannah looked at me, and the swarm bristled with my own self-consciousness. “It’s okay,” she said, her voice finally giving in to tiredness. “I’m not going to be able to sleep anyway. I can handle it.”

Realizing that she wasn’t going to let it go, I said, “At least let me cover half the night. You can wake me up when you need to.”

“Fine.” She retreated to the campfire, and settled down on a rock—her back turned to the cave opening.

Thankfully—and, maybe, as to be expected—no one else volunteered to keep watch. With nothing but our jackets and the campfire to keep us warm, we crawled into whatever spare clothing we had. I lay down on top of my jacket, using my crossbody bag as a pillow. I studied the smooth cave ceiling above, when I heard a surprisingly loud rumble next to me—Daniel’s snoring, and now I realized what Camilo had been putting up with.

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It seemed like such a long time ago, since we had been at the lodge.

Minutes went by while I listened to my classmates’ unsteady breathing and restless shifting turn into soft snoring all around me. I listened to the steady crackling of the fireplace outside, muting the distant animal calls hovering in the night. There was also another noise, like the occasional rummaging by the entrance. It probed at my curiosity. It had to be Hannah—but, without taking a closer look, I couldn’t really tell what she was up to.

Although I couldn’t be entirely sure for how long I lay there, I thought an hour or two had passed by when I decided to check in on her.

“You’re early,” she said, her back still turned to me.

“Hi,” I greeted her. “Couldn’t sleep.” At least, that much was true.

I sat down on the empty space next to her on the rock. Now that I looked at her properly, I saw that she held a stick in her hand. She appeared to conceal something in the fist of her other, while several more sticks lay at her feet. I realized that whatever she was up to, that must have been what I had been hearing throughout the night.

“What… What are you doing?” I asked.

“I’m trying to make…” She paused, turning the stick in her hand. “Well, a spear.”

That was when I noticed the stick’s pointed tip. “How did you do that?” I said, somewhat taken aback by its sharpness.

She opened up her other palm, showing me something which looked like a miniscule fragment of a blade in her hand. I didn’t know what expression I was making, but—whatever it was—it prompted her to say, “Don’t worry. I broke apart my pencil sharpener, so I’ve been trying to sharpen these sticks so we have something to defend ourselves with.”

Momentarily, I found myself somewhat awestruck by her quick thinking. While I wasn’t so sure a branch could do much to hurt a dinosaur, Daniel had been able to distract the raptors by waving a big branch around. And should we run into them again, it was certainly better than nothing…

Again, the gravity of the situation hit me. “Hopefully it doesn’t come to that,” I said. “I mean, having to defend ourselves.”

Hannah tossed the sharpened branch on the ground, then picked up another stick. “Hope for the best, but prepare for the worst,” she murmured. Then, she started to whittle away at the new stick, her hands nimbly wielding the fragmented pencil sharpener.

“Guess so,” I replied. “You really did come prepared, huh?” Her jacket for the Pleistocene Paddock, the flashlight, a pencil sharpener… It was certainly more than I had thought to pack for the trip. In hindsight, the jacket made sense—but even so, a flashlight seemed like a bit much. “What else did you bring? A spare bed? Some batteries? Maybe a chainsaw?” I attempted a playful tone, but in the heavy darkness of nightfall, it fell flat.

She shook her head, a weak smile crossing her lips. “Right now, I just wish I had brought some food…”

I stared into the campfire, watching as she fed the flames tiny pieces of bark from the branch tip. I couldn’t say I envied my classmates’ hunger—far from it. If anything, this was one of the few situations where my powers actually benefited me. Still, a part of me couldn’t help but think that this was yet another thing that made me different—that it created some kind of distance between me and the others, and her…

I looked up again, studying Hannah. While her dark hair fell down her face, partially obscuring it, the campfire cast her in a soft glow—reflected in her deep brown eyes. I noticed the fire’s warmth run through me, putting the swarm at ease. As Hannah started working on the next stick, she stared at it with such intense concentration; one that was simultaneously intimidating and impressive.

I resolved to send out some of my scouts as soon as she went to bed. Between Amber wanting to backtrack and Hannah wanting to search for the Expedition Center, I honestly didn’t know what was the better option. It seemed like a shot in the dark either way. But, maybe my bees—now that they were calm again—could figure out which way we should go.

Only moments had passed by when she spoke again. “But, anyway… How are you holding up?”

“Oh.” I blinked, my thoughts interrupted. What should I tell her? Obviously, I wasn’t doing great—given the circumstances. But, at the same time, I could endure more physical strain than my classmates could. Even Daniel would need food and water eventually. As long as I didn’t get eaten by a raptor, I could keep going for a long time. So, should I put on a brave face? Or should I pretend to be worse for wear than I really felt, to be more in line with my classmates?

Finally, I said something closest to the truth. “I’m tired.” Then, I quickly clarified, “But not in… a sleepy way.” I didn’t want her to think that I was going back on my word to keep watch. “Just tired.”

“In what way, then?” she asked.

“Thinking too much, I guess.”

“About?”

Again, I was at a loss for how to answer. I couldn’t tell her what I was really thinking about. The weird high-pitched noise the bees had picked up on, or how it seemed to have caused the dinosaur’s strange, erratic behavior. Or about Camilo’s suggestion to reveal ourselves as the Chapel Trio.

I almost wished I could confide in her; an outside party. But it quickly fell apart when I tried to picture what I would even say. By the way, I can control a swarm of bees. Maybe they can find us a way out of here? Trust me, they’re smarter than they look.

No, that wasn’t going to work. There was no way I would tell her—or, anyone, for that matter. And, as Camilo’s question kept churning in my head, I felt even more certain that I couldn’t let that happen… There had to be another way out.

“I’m just thinking about all the stuff happening at Chapel.” Again, close enough to the truth. “How weird it is that monsters and powerfights keep following us.” Not to mention the Yakuza and possibly Dragon’s Teeth, but I didn’t want to give her the impression that I knew more than I should. “And now it’s here, too. Almost like… we’re cursed or something.”

“Cursed?” she echoed. “That’s a bit dramatic, don’t you think?”

“Well, I don’t mean literally cursed. It’s just… I don’t know, sometimes it feels like too much to be one big coincidence. But I can’t see how all of it can be connected, either.”

She had stopped whittling away at the stick, putting it down with the others. There was a long pause where we were both quiet. I watched the shadows of the trees dance and flicker in the light of the campfire. Although the forests were too thick and dark to see anything clearly, I still imagined the shapes of things that crawl and watch from the dark.

As the silence dragged on, I started to question whether or not I should have brought up anything about Chapel. Maybe the topic was too dark for an already depressing situation. “Sorry,” I murmured. “We can talk about something else, if you want to.”

“It’s fine,” she replied. “I mean, it is weird. We’re miles and miles away from Chapel High… And shit’s still happening.” She took a deep breath, letting it out as a sigh. “I just don’t know either. How any of it could be connected—if it even is.”

“It must have been really strange for you,” I said. When she gave me a puzzled look, I quickly explained, “I mean, since you transferred here just after everything started.”

“Oh.” She gave an awkward half-chuckle. “Yeah, it’s been… full of surprises.”

“There’s no way your old school was any worse… Right?” I said sheepishly. Something in me, some sort of intuition, told me that I shouldn’t pry too much. At the same time, a part of me hoped she would tell me something. She had really only given me small glimpses into her life outside of school; maybe my curiosity had been compelled now that we were far away from our classroom…

“Well…” She rose to her feet, and—for a moment—I worried that my instinct not to pry had been right. She shuffled around the campfire, then picked up a loose branch from the ground. Wordlessly, she tossed it into the fire. The flames hissed in response. Then, she circled back to me. “It kind of was worse,” she said, now standing next to me.

It wasn’t the answer I had expected. It wasn’t really what I had meant by asking her in the first place—it was just my curiosity disguised as a rhetorical question. Powerfights and monsters weren’t really comparable to most schools, somehow. “Worse… Just not in a monster-type-of-way?” I said, tilting my head.

“Something like that.” She moved closer to the fire, holding her hands out to its warmth. “My family’s never been… well off,” she said without looking at me. “We live in a not so great part of Chinatown. And I went to a not so great school.”

She paused. While questions ran through my mind—about her family, about the school—I didn’t try to fill in the silence. I listened to the crackle of the fire, waiting for her to continue.

“Private school’s out of the question. Too expensive. But, my… badminton coach… He reached out to some other schools, talked to different people. And he managed to find me a spot at Chapel.” Then, with a sarcastic smile, she added, “And impeccable timing, too.”

I didn’t answer right away, taking it all in. While I was used to weird situations by now, it wasn’t really similar to anything I had experienced before. Although she hadn’t given any specifics about what happened, I still imagined that it must have been difficult to deal with. But she didn’t really strike me as someone who wanted other people’s sympathy.

“For what it’s worth, I’m glad you ended up at Chapel of all places,” I said instead. “No one else would have thought to bring a flashlight… or improvise a spear.”

“I’m sure you could figure it out.” Then, with a teasing tone, she added, “Eventually.”

Now, Hannah took a few steps back from the fire—seemingly satisfied with its warmth. She sat down next to me again.

“You know, I never got to thank you.” Just as I sensed her warmth next to me, the memory flashed through my mind. “When we were running from the Dakotaraptors… You basically saved me. That thing was going for my throat, and you pulled me away.”

“Saved you,” she mumbled, repeating the words to herself in mild disbelief. “It’s what anyone would have done,” she continued, her tone now matter-of-factly. “I was just the one standing there.”

I shrugged. “I’m not so sure anyone would have. But, either way, you were the one who pulled me away. So, umh… Thank you for that.”

“You’re welcome…” A yawn interrupted her, before she said, “I think?” There was a lilt in her voice, as she said it more like a question than anything else. I smiled back at her, but didn’t say anything more.

As we lapsed into a long silence, I grew used to the murmurs of the forests. What had sounded like hostile screeches and animal calls now seemed more familiar: soft hoots and coos came from the trees, while the insects drawn in by the fire emitted a low buzz. Albeit the darkest of nights, the sky was the clearest I had seen—even clearer than at the lodge. I could trace the Milky Way’s pale bands with ease, each of its stars crisp like crystals.

Almost the clearest I had ever seen. The force field’s blue glimmer was still slightly visible, like a thin film covering the sky. Then, among the stars, I thought I could see the lights of airplanes—silently hurtling through the night.

There were more than I had expected to see in such a remote place. Did they know about us, I wondered? I glanced at Hannah, who stared into the fire with half-closed eyes. She didn’t seem to have noticed.

I debated whether or not to bring it up. But there were so many things I wanted to talk to her about. If she had any thoughts about how to find the Expedition Center, or if she was still entirely opposed to Amber’s idea. Or, honestly, just something really mundane: how was badminton going, or what would be the first thing she would do once we got home… But, as we watched over the fire and stars, I didn’t want to disrupt the moment.

I didn’t know how much time had passed when I felt a light weight against my shoulder. I glanced at Hannah, who appeared to have dozed off—her head now resting against my shoulder.

My body stiffened. At first, a sense of panic struck me—quickly rippling through the swarm. Should I wake her? Surely, there were more comfortable ways to sleep… Not that the cave had many great options to offer, either.

I stayed put, keeping as still as possible. Every time she inhaled, I expected her to wake up. I wondered what I was supposed to do or say when she did. But, after a while, her soft breaths steadied—brushing lightly against my skin.

Feeling her warmth next to me, I kept watch over the wilderness around us. The flames gradually turned into a smolder at my feet. And, slowly, the first rays of violet sunlight crawled up the horizon, bleeding the night away.